The Fruit of Ambition
by CameoCorbin
Summary: After inheriting his father's company, a young man becomes the most powerful man in the modern world and is plunged into a world of love, lust, greed and corruption.
1. Prologue

**_I wanted to try something different, and here is what I came up with – the movie Alexander form a modern day setting. This is my first Alexander fan fiction and I'll try and update as soon as I have the time to. Please don't forget to review me:D_**

WARNING: VIOLENCE, DRUG USE, INDECENT LANGUAGE, ATTEMPTED RAPE, CHARACTER DEATH.

**The Fruit of Ambition**

_**Prologue**_

It had become a disaster if epic proportions, something that had managed to remain the focus of every news broadcast for an entirety of three days. Now, as his eyes stared blankly out of his apartment window to the scant amount of people passing in the streets below, he was unable to hear the roar of the helicopter above the building, and smell the nauseating stench of what he felt was the rotting corpse of the young woman in the apartment next door.

He had usually come here to think far away from where he thought anyone would recognise him in the warm quiet comfort of this small town; and now, as he sat he had become once again slave to his usual fit of abstraction, except that today his mind was only filled with horror and disquiet.

His eyes shifted to the mess of auburn hair that spread out on the pillow on the large antique bed across the room, and almost immediately the sound of a light snore caught his ears. Hephaestion had sprawled out on the bed, and kicked off the sheet again. Alexander laughed softly. At least there was still his Patroklous to lighten his mood, but he could not allow himself to become distracted as yet. There were other important matters to be dealt with.

His eyes shifted back to the window, and the smile faded from his face as the sound of a radio broadcast of the news drifted from the streets. It was a chilling tale of an epidemic that somehow managed to travel across three states in a week.

_One week, _he mused; and the origins were very far from accountable.

Within the three weeks following its emergence it had both claimed the lives of at least three hundred people, and threatened to plunge a mighty nation in severe economic crisis. Alexander shuddered; not just any mighty nation, the world power that _he _built.

Alexander turned away as the voices on the radio became deafening. The noise from approaching sirens had drowned out most of what they were saying, but he was still able to pick up the gist of what the two microbiologists were quarrelling about. For a moment, he realised that he wasn't surprised at the raw hatred he heard dripping from their voices, but attributed everything to panic, dark heavy panic that had taken the world as quickly as the first set of people started dying.

He rose slowly and headed to his jacket for the last box of cigarettes. He needed them to think or to clear his mind so to speak, and made a silent prayer to the gods that Hephaestion didn't wake up and see him. He wasn't sure he could take another lecture from his lover about the hazards of smoking. He couldn't believe how much Hephaestion had changed over the years. One day they were teenagers giggling over smuggled weed and beer in the darkness of his bedroom, and the next, Hephaestion is lecturing him on the risks of smoking and heavy drinking. Alexander smiled weakly. He didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. On one hand he missed the fun they had in the old days, and on the other, he was glad Hephaestion's old habits were long gone. He would never forget the day when a terrible cocaine addiction had almost taken his beloved away from him. Just remembering it made him feel more like shit. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and lit his cigarette. Gods...he _looked_ like shit!

He was brought back to reality by a soft rustling of the sheets, and the soothing voice of a half asleep Hephaestion.

"Alexander, come to bed."

Alexander nearly swallowed the cigarette, and quickly began fanning the smoke away.

"I will be there soon, my love."

Hephaestion sat up slowly running his hand through his long auburn hair. For a moment Alexander's breath caught at ethereal appearance at his lover's iridescent blue eyes in the dark. Then he remembered the cigarette. He still held the goddamn cigarette in his hand.

"Are you still fretting about the epidemic, Alexander?" Hephaestion sighed and turned to his lover. Alexander couldn't help but get aroused as strands of auburn hair lightly caressed his lover's lips. "I'm worried about you. Whenever I wake up you're either there standing by the window, or pacing the room at night. You haven't slept for _thre_e days, Alexander; and frankly you're beginning to scare me."

Alexander sighed. Hephaestion was right, but he couldn't allow himself to rest while so many people were dying. If things continued like this, the whole country would probably be wiped out in less than a few months. He wasn't the president, but because of the amount of influence he had, every decision that was made was made by him. The president and the rest of politicians were mere pawns. He ruled this country. His decisions and money kept this country alive.

"Hephaestion, I can't. At least, not right now my love. Everything is so confusing right now. I have tried everything, and spent an ungodly amount of money on research, but they still have no clue about its origins or how to cure it. It's still spreading like wildfire Hephaestion, I can't abandon my thoughts for one minute."

Hephaestion got off the bed and headed towards his beloved. Even in the dark he could tell that his lover needed to be held.

"Do you think it could have been some type of terrorist attack?"

Alexander sighed as he felt his lover's arms around his waist. Warm breath tickled his neck, as Hephaestion rested his head on his shoulder.

"No one is sure yet; but I need to do this because I can't bear to lose you Hephaestion. Everyone else is dying, but if I lose you I am nothing."

Alexander turned swiftly and cupped Hephaestion's cheeks so he could stare into his eyes. Hephaestion shivered as he glimpsed the terror and pain in Alexander's dark eyes.

"Promise me you won't ever leave me Hephaestion! Promise me!"

Hephaestion's eyes began to swim as he stared into his lover's dark eyes.

"I promise you, my Achilles. I will never leave you as long as the gods allow it."

Alexander released a sob, and pulled his lover into a desperate kiss. One thing he had never forgotten was that Patroklous died first.


	2. Chapter 1

**Thanks for your wonderful reviews. Keep em coming!**

**Chapter 1**

I have been thinking of the best possible way in which I could start this, because, I know that both reading and writing someone's biography tends to get a bit wearisome at times. So after enduring four days worth of sleep debt, and my wife's threatening me to have sex with her or consider the possibility of a divorce, I have finally discovered the perfect way to begin this story, but let me warn you first, that being a police reporter by profession and a young freelance writer I have no prior experience with these things. I must even admit that when he first contacted me, I immediately dismissed him, supposing that it was a prank. I can only assume that the reason why he chose me was because he probably read my short story series in the newspaper and liked my writing. Nonetheless, finding a generous down payment for the job in a private account in a bank somewhere in Athens was enough for me to delightfully accept his offer, but, enough with all this prattling. This is not what I have been paid for now, is it?

If I were to begin telling you this story, because that is what it is, I would start by telling you why people thought of him as a god.

In fact, there were many reasons why he was labeled a god, and perhaps the most obvious reason was his lustrous mane of thick golden blond hair that appeared even more the epitome of radiance while in the sun. It complemented his powerfully built golden body, and framed a perfectly sculptured face. The next was his demeanor and the next, his dark eyes, which from a very early age seemed to possess a permanent fire. Most believed it to be an absolute reflection of his restless personality which of course, manifested itself in the extent of his accomplishments, while on the other hand, others thought it was definite proof of his questionable sanity.

I believe that was why I was able to identify him so easily when he ambled through the doors of the small cafe sometime in the early evening that Saturday. We had been meeting every Saturday for nearly three weeks now over the phone because of his busy schedule, and even though I had seen him on the television and his picture in finance section of newspapers and magazines a few times, I must admit that I never had the luxury of seeing him in real life.

He appeared to me like one of those handsome, well built men who were usually on the cover of one of my wife's hidden erotica novels, and I know that I would have immediately felt a pang of jealousy shooting through my body had there not been that familiar tightening in my groin. I kept telling myself that I was straight, but my cock kept feeding graphic images to my brain of him flinging me over the table and fucking me silly like a sluttly queer.

Some professional I was, I thought; and reluctantly lowered my gaze to the bowl of exotic food I had been picking at on the table.

I had been waiting there for him for over an hour, silently alternating between listening to the sound of the heavy June rain beating against the roof outside, and inhaling the sweet and spicy aromas of the foreign food, that drifted temptingly about the small cafe. My eyes were still lowered when he approached me, the faint scent of dried flowers catching my nose. I was not able to see him, but I could feel the radiance of his smile burn right through my head. I crossed my legs and bit down hard on my lower lip, praying desperately for him not to notice my arousal.

I did a good job of feigning surprise when he tapped on the table to get my attention.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked.

There was something in his voice that immediately made me feel a little bit more at ease, and if I were to describe it to you right now, I would most likely use the words 'natural charm.'

'Uhm...no, please make yourself comfortable. It seems we might be here for a while." I said glancing through a glass window at the rain pelting outside. "Would you like anything to eat...uhm...Mr...uhm"

"Just call me Alexander," he said flashing me one of his most magnificent smiles. His wild dark eyes spelt mischief, and made me shift uncomfortably in my seat. I had to wonder, was he _flirting_ with me? Taking into consideration all the rumors I had heard about the man, I had pointedly decided to ignore whether or not he was making advances on me, and go ahead with the interview. After all, it _was_ what I was being paid for, wasn't it?

"Okay then Alexander," I replied smiling. "Would you like something to eat?"

A waitress had approached the table and was waiting for his response silently. As her eyes widened, I could tell she had recognised his face.

"Nah, I'll take some coffee, thanks." He responded by flashing her the same dazzling smile he had given me less than a minute ago. My annoyance quickly changed to amusement, as I watched the waitress blush and stumble on her way to get the order. Alexander chuckled.

"You know, I have been interviewing Hephaestion for the book too. Before I began researching, I thought since he knows you very well, he would be a very good source of information for the book. Very reliable..."

"Oh?" Alexander's amusement turned to surprise, as he once again met my eyes. "When?"

"On Thursday evenings. I thought he told you. You don't have a problem with it, do you?"

Alexander ran a hand through his thick blond hair and sighed looking at the table. "No, not at all, it's just that he hasn't told me anything about it."

He narrowed his eyes, and continued staring at the table. "We barely tell each other anything anymore," he muttered miserably. He continued staring at the table for a moment in silence, which was broken by the sound of the waitress who had approached the table flushed, with a steaming cup of fresh coffee. I was so caught up in the scent, that I just about heard the waitress shyly wish Alexander a good meal.

"Can we start now?" asked Alexander impatiently, glancing at a clock on the wall.

I was sure I could see a mixture of boredom, misery and a hint of pain in those dark fiery orbs.

"Very well then," I replied, taking the tape recorder out of my pocket and placing it on the table. Today was the day when Alexander the Great would tell me the story of when he and Hephaestion first met.


	3. Chapter 2

**I'm really sorry for the very very VERY late update. All I can say is that I started off with writers block first, and then life happened. Please review? **

**Chapter 2**

I took a deep breath, inhaling the spicy pungent aroma of the steaming black coffee that was set on the table before him. The man had begun to seem much more interested in fingering the pendant hanging on the black ribbon necklace around his golden neck, and I was beginning to fear that the coffee might eventually go to waste. Such a pity, I thought. It did not have the charcoal smell of supermarket coffee.

I sat up straight, resisted the urge to clear my throat and began.

"Alex-"

"Do you believe in destiny?" he interrupted. His dark eyes were lowered and seemed focused on some unseen entity floating within his coffee.

"Destiny?" I asked, both intrigued and puzzled at where he planned to take our conversation.

"Yes, yes," he replied impatiently. "Destiny. Fate. Kismet. The belief that some great being or beings have already planned out our lives for us."

I hesitated briefly. Despite the fact that I was raised in one of the most rigid Christian environments there was, I had never considered myself as a spiritual person, and worse never found the time or saw the necessity to think about such matters even in my adulthood.

"Well," I replied. "I don't think I do. However, the concept of a predestined future does seem a little farfetched to me. Humans are born with free will and so each of us has control over our own lives."

The man laughed bitterly and continued staring at his coffee.

"I believe in destiny," he said softly. The timbre of his voice made me shiver slightly.

"I also believe that all humans are born with free will…but is it fair to say that a child who is born into generations of poverty, in a society where there is no social mobility has control over whether he or she will be poor in the future? I believe that we are all mere pawns of the universe, whether our role in this life is great or small. It would be presumptuous and futile for an insignificant mortal to thwart it."

I leaned back and folded my arms. While the existence of fate or destiny truly seemed like an interesting topic, I realised that I was still nowhere near getting the information that I had originally planned to get.

"Well, what d you and Hephaestion meeting have to do with fate and destiny? Is it that you think both of you were fated to be together?"

Alexander pushed the coffee away. He raised his head and looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time.

"No," he sighed. "Hephaestion and I were fated to be apart."

"You see, even now I am still unsure of when we first saw each other; for even though we encountered many times, something would happen to separate us right before we got a chance to meet.

"While I was the result of thousands of years of noble breeding on both sides, Hephaestion's father struck gold in the late seventies when he developed a series of powerful nuclear weapons that countries, who I refuse to name, were only too eager to pay billions of dollars for.

"However, even with their newly found wealth it was still hard for Hephaestion's family, the _nouveau riches_, to penetrate the walls of high society, because in my world it is not only about the amount of money, but it is the age of it that matters.

"I guess that is why it had taken me several years to discover that one of my first encounters with him might have been when I was five years old. I was a wild and energetic child then, and my only company was an imagination I could barely harness. Lessons with my tutors were spent drifting in and out of daydreams, while nap times were fierce battles and great foreign adventures that sometimes had me wandering unnoticed out of my rooms, and into the gargantuan halls of my parents' residence. Sometimes, I would get so consumed with my adventures, that I would find a way to bypass every adult and wander into the garden.

"However, one day, I imagined that I was the king of a great army who led hundred of thousands of seasoned soldiers to a battle halfway across the world. I battles hundreds of grey feathered enemies with a dirty twig sword, and gave chase to their humiliated butterfly king.

"By the time I had come back to reality, I had long since passed the garden and had somehow managed to bypass the guards and walk a small distance outside the premises. Of course, I didn't know that then, and I figured that I must have unknowingly walked leagues away from my house. At first, the idea frightened me so much it paralysed me for several minutes. It didn't help that the lonely asphalt road seemed to stretch into an eternity, and the trees that lined it seemed taller somehow, darker and more threatening.

"It wasn't long before I could feel the traces of a scream rising within my throat and clawing at its walls to be let free, but even that seemed to die very soon after I begun to wonder who would answer it. My father was halfway across the world on what he had only vaguely described as a business trip, and my mother…well my mother and her love of venomous snakes and the macabre was just a hint away from being the most terrifying being I could think of.

"After what felt like aeons of watching not even a single car pass by, I finally made my decision. I must find way on my own! But how?

"I threw away the twig and clenched my first concentrating as hard as I could. The only image that kept flooding my mind was that of hundreds of small grey twittering birds that invaded the gardens day after day searching for food among the plants and in the freshly cut grass. Yes! I thought. I would try to be as quiet as I could and listen for the birds! Their twittering would lead me to the garden, and I would find my way to the house from there.

"Thus, I stood very still, closed my eyes and raised my face to the sky, listening carefully for what I thought would be the sound of hundreds of small twittering birds; but all I could hear was the soft fluid sound of a piano playing in the distance.

"The playing was such that I had never heard before, with an undertone of sadness that was beyond hypnotising. The music called, and I was lulled to follow, partly from my own curiosity and with the hope that I might be able to ask for directions. It did not take me very long to find its origin either, and within less time than I could count, I had forced my small body through a hedge and found myself standing in front of one of the most beautiful country houses. By this time, the music had gotten louder and clearer, and seemed to be coming from a window directly above me.

"I took a deep breath, taking in air as far as my small lungs could hold and called.

"HELLOOOOO!"

The music stopped immediately and a small head covered in an unruly mass of thick auburn curls peered curiously out of the window. I remember thinking that its piercing blue eyes seemed almost alien and too large for its face, right before it responded in a strange lilting accent.

"Who are you? And how did you get in here?"

"I stuck my chest out and raised my head high, half regretting that I had thrown away my twig sword. My father never failed to emphasize how important it was to make a good impression on the people I came into contact with. A good impression _demands_ respect, and people like us deserve nothing less.

"I am Alexander the Great! King and conqueror of all you see here! I command you, fair maiden to escort me to my kingdom!"

The child gave me an annoyed frown.

"_Maiden?_ I'm not a girl! And you don't look like a king to me…You're just a little child in dirty clothes!"

I looked down on my clothes and noticed he was right. They were torn in several places, and covered with blotches of dark mud.

"_I'm not a child!_" I shouted disappointedly. "I'm five years old!"

The little boy rolled his eyes and turned away.

"Well, I'm _six_, and that makes you a baby to me."

I stared at the window angrily.

"_I'm not a baby!_" I screamed. "Come back!"

"There was a scrape of a chair against the floor, and the haunting music resumed.

"YOU TALK FUNNY!" I screamed, shocked, hurt and angry that he would ignore me. Even at my young age, people were always groveling at me feet, fighting to gain the scraps of the benefits that came with impressing my father's heir.

"I stomped out to the hedge, with a new determination that I would once again try to find my way home on my own. Crawling through was a little more difficult than it had been on my first try, and it was my stubborn determination alone that had kept me from feeling the tiny scrapes my efforts had left me with.

"I didn't have to walk very far before a familiar voice called my name and held me in a tight embrace. I knew it was neither my mother nor my father, but my nanny who had come looking for me. The only one who truly seemed like she cared…

"She smothered me with kisses, and then held me away from her so I was staring into her eyes. They were filled with a mixture of relief, pain and worry.

"Do you know how long I searched for you Alexander?" she cried, planting a kiss on the top of my head. "What if something had happened to you? Your mother will fire me if she finds out about this! Do you want me to get fired?"

"I spent the rest of the day in my room as punishment, not that I had the urge to go outside after that, but on thing that kept lingering in my mind was the image of the boy at the window. To this day, I think my heart found him from then.

"It was years later before I saw him again, Hephaestion that is, and when I did, there were only small glimpses of him. I knew it was him, because his features had not changed much from what I think might have been the first time I saw him.

"A few days before my seventh birthday, I saw him and his family move out of their country house where I had first remembered seeing him. When I was eight, I saw a picture of him and his parents in the newspaper, when his mother a famed foreign actress who only went by the name of Daniela, was being interviewed in a local newspaper. When I was ten, I think I might have spotted him three times somewhere in the crowded streets on a trip to the City of Lights. Each time I went to approach him, he disappeared. When I was eleven, and followed my father on a business trip halfway around the world, I spotted him standing across the street through the window of a high rise building. I heard he was visiting his mother while she filmed a movie.

"Each time I glimpsed him, my thirst to find him grew. I knew neither his name nor who he really was, and I was clueless to as to how to start looking for him. He was my first wet dream, my first teenage fantasy, my first love and my first obsession, and it seemed like each time I saw him, he had gotten more and more beautiful. I can't tell you how stupid I felt at twelve to know that my first real crush was on someone I had never and probably would never meet. I worked like madman to find him, using every single dollar my parents had given me to try and track his movements from the moment he moved into my town, to the moment he moved away, but I was always for the most part unsuccessful. So far, I had only a name. It did not make things much easier when I found out that his father Amyntor, for safety reasons, did everything in his power to make sure that his family, including his celebrity wife, be given utmost privacy.

I guess you can imagine that it was the last thing I expected when my father, Phillip found him for me.


	4. Chapter 3

_Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. Every single one of them, no matter how short are very appreciated. I'm sorry I haven't been able to update as regularly as I should. I've been very busy, and somehow it seems that when I decide to take a break I have the worst writer's block. I swear I have not and will NOT give up on this story whatever happens. _

_I realised that I forgot to add a lot of warnings to this story. Let me just add them now so nobody gets any dirty surprises. _

_The story takes place between the early nineteen nineties and the present time by the way. I'm trying my best to give an accurate description of the time period, especially in the early nineties, but I was actually born in '88 so please bear with me._

_**Warnings: **__Alternate Universe (AU),slash(M/m pairing), threesome (M/M/M), drug use, character death, attempted rape, Non-con, Het, Abuse. _

**_Disclaimer:_**_ I own neither the movie Alexander, nor the characters involved. I earn no money from this story. It's purely for entertainment. _

_Dedicated to Zophiel…_

**Chapter 3**

"I bet you that I can get anyone in here to sleep with me tonight," announced the blond flashing me an arrogant smile.

"Pardon?"

His change of topic and mood had taken me completely by surprise, while the predatory look in his dark eyes made my loins stir painfully. He knew what effect he had on people and enjoyed every moment of it. I wasn't sure whether or not I could handle being the latest victim of his charms. My relationship wasn't great, but I had a wife at home, a fact that he already knew and I wasn't too eager to ruin things, a fact which I knew a man of his genius had already picked up on. Resisting him was like using a nutcracker to break a diamond. Absolutely impossible.

He leaned across the table and I immediately felt his firm grip moving slowly up my thigh. Even the thin cotton of my pants could not protect me from the liquid fire he sent rushing through my body.

"_Anyone,_" he whispered hoarsely, making my breathing increase as his warm hand lightly brushed against my hardened crotch. I moaned softly. All my intentions to resist him began to slowly melt away.

Alexander laughed mockingly.

"What did I tell you?"

My cheeks burned in embarrassment and I suddenly began to focus on anything but him; the young couple laughing at the back, the elderly man and little girl entering though the glass doors, the disheveled man in a black pinstripe suit gesturing wildly while he spoke in hushed tones on his cell phone. I silently scolded myself for allowing the wealthy playboy to affect me so quickly and so profoundly.

The more time I spent with him was the more time I had found myself considering something his beloved Hephaestion said to me while I was interviewing him for the book. They might have been estranged, but they still knew each other better than anyone else did. When Hephaestion told me Alexander would flirt the whiskers off a dead kitten if it meant building up his ego, I thought he might have been joking or exaggerating, but after Alexander's little demonstration with his hand and my crotch, I realised the statement might not have been so far off.

"WAITRESS!" he screamed, making several of the restaurant's occupants jump.

A plump young woman with a small notebook in her hand rushed to our table. I could see a mixture of curiosity, recognition and intimidation flash across her features, before it was quickly replaced with a mask of nonchalance.

"Yes sir? Are you ready to order?" she asked.

"We'll both have a slice of the chocolate cake," he said. "And hurry up with it."

The waitress left quickly and a smug smile materialised on his face.

"I've been to over forty counties and tasted many delicious things, but their chocolate cake is to die for. I swear it!" he added.

"Are you always like this?" I asked, looking at him curiously.

"More or less," he smiled cryptically, taking our plates from the waitress who had returned as if the devil himself were at her heels.

"Now, where was I?" asked Alexander shoving a large piece of chocolate cake into his mouth.

"You were about to tell me how you first met Hephaestion."

"Oh yes," he smiled. "Hephaestion."

"My thirteenth birthday saw me in a vile mood, a tangled mass of hair, teeth, frustration and anger that paced the hallways like a starved lion searching for fresh meat. Frightened servants scurried out of my way as if my very gaze was a curse and my presence lethal. I could feel their pity filled stared and hear their ignorant hurried whispers behind my back. Apparently the gossipmongers had it that a chronic madness ran in my mother's family like scoliosis, and murder ran in my father's. I was its latest unsuspecting victim who would sit outside in the garden until the late hours of the night talking to myself. I would have laughed in their faces and given them something real to believe in had I not been so preoccupied and upset.

"You see, it was the kind of week that would make anyone fear taking any unnecessary risks. Some people call it bad luck. My mother had said that it had something to do with a strange arrangement of the planets or was it the stars? All I know is that while I had many events planned, literally everything that could go wrong went horribly wrong.

"It all started the Sunday Arrhidaeus went missing. Arrhidaeus was the son of one of my father's countless ex-wives and mistresses, and even though he was not much older than me, he was considered legally mentally retarded. He wasn't always like that though. He was quite normal at birth and would have quite likely been named heir to m father's "kingdom", but that's a story for another time.

"What you need to know is that they kept him locked in his quarters like a strange monstrous being that had been banished to the shadows. His room was like a child's prison, decorated with all the toy cars, trucks, planes and trains a small boy could possibly desire. While I had only been in his quarters a handful of times, I even heard that adjacent to it was his own miniature funhouse.

"Of course, his was all complete with a buxom Brazilian caretaker, whose manner of dressing left almost nothing on her curvy golden brown body to the imagination. I'm not sure where my father found her, but even though she could barely speak English, she had been there for a total of three years. That was much longer than any of Arrhidaeus' other caretakers cared to stick around, and it never too me three months to figure out that my father's weekly visits weren't directed toward Arrhidaeus.

"Well, it was during a weekend tryst that Arrhidaeus managed to slip away. Even though they didn't admit it, it was clear that the nurse and my father had more than a few drinks, and after thinking that they had locked him in the closet, commenced their rigorous activities. Unfortunately, in all their drunk stupidity, the closet door wasn't the only think left open and Arrhidaeus managed to sneak out.

"We spent hours searching for him in places only he seemed to be able to access in a miraculously short space of time. Of course, by _we _I meant me or a few servants, as my father had waived everything off, giving the excuse of having an important meeting. I couldn't care less.

"I surveyed roofs, climbed tall trees, searched the bottom of the indoor pools and at one point even considered getting people to drain and scour the two ponds that lay in the midst of our wild and overgrown gardens, but our efforts were futile. Neither the servants nor me had a clue where he could have gone.

"Many hours later after most people had given up, I was still hot on the trail. Problem solving was second nature to me, and Arrhidaeus' disappearance had the gears in my head oiled up and spinning faster than ever - "

I cleared my throat falteringly, unwilling to interrupt his story.

"Yes?" asked Alexander.

"Why didn't anyone call the police?"

"Things are a little more complex in my world," he replied. "Honour and reputation come first. People leak anonymous tips to the media and by the time stories are released, they've become the most exaggerated and perverted forms of gossip. I've experienced it myself."

Alexander pushed his empty plate forward and continued.

"I eventually found Arrhidaeus sound asleep in a hidden room near the basement, but what I found with him nearly made me scream in horror. From a distance the shreds of paper that surrounded him looked like what was left of a small child's doodling, but as soon as I drew closer my heart nearly stopped. I could recognize it anywhere, and the thought of a relic so ancient and priceless destroyed in such a callous act made my blood boil. There on the floor beside my slumbering half brother were the remnants of the oldest copy of the Iliad.

"It was gifted to me by an elderly museum curator who was impressed with the work of my father and my love of archaeology. He was so confidently that it had found a good home with me, and I had planned to copy it and put it in a safe place, where none but me could access it. How Arrhidaeus managed to possess it was a complete mystery to me. The worst thing was that until then, I had no idea that it was missing. I was filled with an uncontrollable rage. I was going to kill him.

"OH MY GOD!" I screamed. "OH MY GOD! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

"I sifted through pieces of paper on my knees desperately hoping something could be saved. He was awake now and frightened. His brown eyes were wide and mouth formed a perfect "O" as he retreated slowly until he was nearly blocking the room's only window.

"Within a split second, I had launched at him, fists raised and teeth bared. His arms went up in a feeble attempt to ward off the blows, but before I could strike, a glimpse of something out the window caused me to stop in my tracks.

"A simple glance through that window would give anyone a magnificent view of the perfectly manicured front lawn, and the gargantuan iron gates like a metal fortress that shielded us from the outside world. Sometimes guests who were in a hurry would park their cars at the front.

"I had neither seen nor heard of him for a very long time, but as soon as I glimpsed that dark shoulder length auburn hair, I had recognized him immediately as if I'd seen him for years.

"From the distance it was hard to see the large blue eyes I had once regarded as alien, or the pale smooth porcelain skin that had come to haunt my dreams. He was different now, taller without much of the coltish awkwardness most adolescents had at his age.

"His mother was a Scottish actress, as freckled faced elemental with fiery red hair and large blue eyes that spoke of calm oceans and clear summer days. I had heard he looked like her and I watched her movies obsessively hoping to get an idea of what he would look like. Now that I saw him, I realised he was a darker version with a height that promised he would be much taller.

"He was walking with an older taller man, whom I had guessed from the few pictures I had seen of him was his father Amyntor. Where Hephaestion's mother was of fair and carefree, Amyntor was dark and serious. As they walked closer by the window, my breath hitched. For just a few seconds some of the shortest seconds of my entire life, I had a perfect view of my soulmate. He looked uncomfortable in the suit he wore, and on his face was a mixture of frustration and annoyance. His father didn't look much better.

"They were walking briskly to a slick black Mercedes that was parked under the shade. The driver stood waiting with an unreadable expression.

"I'm not going," said Hephaestion abruptly. His voice, which had begun to change, had a stoic determination. There was still a tiny trace of the lilting accent that he had when we had first seen each other, but for the most part it had disappeared like a distant memory.

"Italy, remember? You promised I'd get to study art in Italy."

"The decision has been made Hephaestion, and we're not going through this again. Phillip Argead has requested that you attend that private school along with his son. Very few people get into the school each year. You'll have enough time to pursue your hobby later. Just don't disappoint me."

"My heart leapt. Hephaestion would be attending school with me! My head was immediately filled with ideas of elaborate schemes on how I would conquer his heart and make him mine.

"I watched them get into the back of the car silently while the driver closed the doors. My beloved had a hurt look on his face. My arms ached to hold and comfort him, to protect him from pain and disappointment. By the time I had noticed Arrhidaeus' absence, the car had already gone and I had filed away a new picture in my mind of a fourteen year old Hephaestion. I was also reminded I had other things to worry about.

"My father was the head of a company known as Argead Industries. Of course, by the name you must have guessed that it was family owned, and it certainly was. As I mentioned to you previously, I was the result of thousands of years of noble breeding on both sides. Up to the late eighteen hundreds, our wealth mostly consisted of thousands of acres of land and animals. However, by nineteen twenty nine, my father's father founded "Argead Motors", a company that specialised in the making and design of luxury cars for the rotten rich. It survived the Depression like a champ, and by nineteen thirty, my grandfather also found oil on some of our land.

"By the time my father took over the _Argead Dynasty_, as my family is sometimes referred to, we were ten times wealthier than we were in the eighteen hundreds. We lived like royalty among the secluded class of the world's elite.

"Roughly a year earlier, before the events with Arrhidaeus and the Iliad and I had gotten to see my soulmate for the first time in many years, my father, Phillip Argead had given me one of the most influential positions in Argead Motors. Now, even though the position was only temporary, Argead Motors has been a virtual goldmine from the moment it began in the late nineteen twenties. It was one of Argead Industries' biggest earners, and my father's "strange" decision had scandalised both the board and top executives alike.

"To him, he was giving me the experience of a lifetime, teaching me what _real_ responsibility was, the "ins" and "outs" of the fast paced dog-eat-dog business world. I would _not_ be some pampered rich kid who couldn't even wipe his own ass. The Argead men were businessmen. I would be a strong leader and his worthy heir.

"What my father did that year was as unheard of in nineteen ninety as it is unpopular today. The board of Argead Industries complained bitterly. I was an inexperienced child who had barely reached his thirteenth year. Phillip was taking a gamble that had the ability to bring an entire company to its knees. One very wrong decision on my part could cause us to lose over half our income. Who knows? We could even go bankrupt! He was putting a twelve year old in charge of the jobs of millions of hard working employees worldwide. What would happen to them?

"My father remained resolute in his decision. In our world of the absurdly wealthy, boys lost their virginities at eleven and were practically men by thirteen. There was that, and a magnetism that he had seen in me, which he claimed had great potential.

"My ideas were different. I would prove the entire board wrong and win their favour and respect long before my time was up. My father had given me a year and six months and I would utilize it.

"By my third month, I had presented all sorts of wild and genius ideas that had top management listening and employees the most motivated in years. I was juggling my tutor Leonidas' lessons, along with working a high stress job and managing a chaotic household whenever my father was abroad.

"I didn't know of any other twelve year old who had half as many responsibilities, but I wasn't jealous at all. This was what I wanted. It was an overwhelming amount of responsibilities and I felt that if I did not figure out how to manage them all soon, I would either go crazy or die of exhaustion in the fifth month.

"I had adopted a hazardous schedule of sleepless nights, running only on Pepsi and the drive to someday take over my father's empire and make it bigger, stronger and infinitely powerful. I was the hardest working person in the company, and not a single important document got by me. I had no training, but whatever I didn't know, I read, did my own studies and sought advice. By the end of six months, my portion of Argead Motors was booming.

"I guess by now you're probably wondering what all of this had to do with my vile mood or bad week just a little before I turned thirteen. Well my hard work did not go unnoticed by many people, including the board. I had gone from being a potential liability to the entire company and possibly Argead Industries' biggest asset. They had even begun questioning my father's authority. The media went wild with stories of the twelve year old business genius who had accomplished the impossible in less than a y ear. My father began to feel threatened, and a day after Arrhidaeus destroyed the Iliad, and I saw Hephaestion for the first time in years, my father found a way to fire me. I was livid. The man who seemed to have the most faith in me once had robbed me of over six months for no valid reason. His excuse was that he was sending me to Mieza; one of the oldest and most expensive private schools in the world. Head sent me a letter explaining how he would have preferred that I used the remaining six months to prepare. However, I knew he did it because he didn't want me to outshine him.

"I was so angry. I felt like I had worked so hard all that time for nothing at all. As expected, my mother couldn't help but sympathise with her sordid stories that defamed my father's character and authority I had spent the next few days listening to her prodding and encouragement. It was a welcome change from the poison she spewed about my father, and if I didn't know by then, I knew that she loved me in her own ghoulish way.

"My thirteenth birthday arrived with me feeling significantly calmer. I had begun making plans two weeks prior so I could spend my birthday touring a recently excavated site of an ancient city that had been lost for thousands of years. I had looked forward to the trip for the entire two weeks. I would be far away from my father, mother and multitudes of troublesome siblings and prying servants. I would spend my nights in the desert, laying on my back staring at the starry heavens and dreaming of my future.

"However, I seen realised even that wasn't meant to be when I found out at the last minute that my father cancelled my trip. I spent the rest of the day alternating between sulking in my room and pacing the hallways angrily. I had invested a lot of money in that trip, and even more in keeping the secret from my parents. I didn't see what was so wrong with enjoying my thirteenth birthday. After all, I wouldn't be thirteen again.

"By sunset, my anger had turned into a mild depression. I lay on my bed silently staring up at the ceiling feeling sorry for myself.

"There was a small knock at my door. I could tell that it was one of the younger household staff. While the older ones knocked with confidence, the newer younger ones were always so unsure of themselves, especially with me.

"What?" I called my annoyance seeping into my voice. I wanted to be left to feel sorry for myself in peace.

"Your father requests a meeting with you at seven, sir. He says dress nicely."

"I sighed. The last person I wanted to see was my father.

"Where?" I asked, rolling over and smashing my face into a pillow.

"The ballroom, sir."

"I could hear her footsteps grow distant and I sighed, again. A meeting with my father in the ballroom on my birthday could only mean one thing. He and my mother had managed to tolerate each other long enough to plan a surprise party. It was quite obvious, but as intriguing as that sounded, I had no interest in going.

"It took me forty five minutes before I had taken a shower and began to get myself ready. My father said _dress nicely_, which meant I had the option of picking out my own suit. A part of me felt like rebelling and throwing on a t-shirt and cut-off jeans, but I eventually settled on wearing an expensive tailored suit I had never worn.

"Fixing my hair was always the worst chore, and that night wasn't any better. It was the year nineteen ninety one, before the long unkempt hair of the grunge music scene. Headbands, short hair and bowl cuts were still the order of the day. My hair was cut short, and that seemed to make it stick up in the strangest places. I found myself using nearly half a jar of hair gel before my hair was nearly slicked back. By the time I had finished getting ready it was minutes to eight.

"I rushed out quickly, nearly bumping into my mother Olympias near the entrance to the ballroom. She was wearing a haute couture pink skirt suit with pantyhose and heels. Her dark brown hair was styled neatly into a French Twist. I could see why my father married her. She looked amazing.

"Where have you been Alexander?"

"She scrutinized me up and down, looked shocked and then laughed.

"Have you seen yourself?" she asked smiling.

"She searched her purse for something, pulled out a small mirror and handed it to me.

"Look at your hair!"

"I looked in the mirror and saw my hair sticking up in all directions. I quickly smoothed it all down and walked in.

"The ballroom was beyond breathtaking. Above, on the high stained class ceiling was the Argead Sun of Vergina, our insignia painted in a mosaic of royal blue and gold. There was something about the way the starlight hit it that made it look illuminated and almost radiant. What was once polished hardwood of the floor had been replaced by shiny black marble that resembled a calm sea on the darkest night.

"The people were as plentiful and as colourful as the food. Even though I didn't know most of them, I could easily tall they all were among the world's elite. There were politicians, diplomats, business owners and I had even spotted a few who I knew to be of royal blood.

"It wasn't merely a birthday party. It was an event for me to form alliances and meet and impress very important people. It was things like these that made our money and influence even stronger.

"I greeted, conversed, charmed and entertained for what seemed like an entire night. I was always an avid reader, so luckily for me there was no shortage of topics for me to converse with.

"If they were passionate about music, I was a music enthusiast. If they were passionate about the Yugoslav Wars, I knew everything there was to know about it and the Brijumi Agreement. I was an all rounder who could charm the boots off anyone I so desired. However, many hours later, my back had begun to hurt from all the standing and I wanted nothing more than just a few minutes to sit alone.

"I escaped quickly, dodging guests and servants in the busy halls until I ended up in the garden. It had been my safe haven for years. I was the only one who seemed interested in visiting it regularly, and so I knew that I would be greeted by its solitude and warmth. I plopped down on the ground beside a tree, closed my eyes and sighed.

"Shouldn't you be inside with the other guests?" asked a voice somewhere above.

"My eyes sprang open and I came to my feet immediately. There was no one in front of me.

"Behind you," said the voice.

"At that moment when I turned around, my entire life changed. In the few times I'd seen him it was always from a distance, with me always regretting I was never close enough to see him clearly. I had thought he was beautiful, but seeing him even closer in the moonlight, he was godlike, stunning.

"He was tall for a fourteen year old with wavy dark auburn hair that stopped just above his shoulders. Like his mother, he looked almost elemental, with a few freckles like cinnamon sprinkled across the bridge of his nose, and a large impish smile. His piercing blue eyes appeared to glow.

"I_ hate_ these things," he said. "I don't know which one is worse, the stiffness or the fakeness. Everyone pretends to like each other, when all they do is boast about their money and influence. Since you practically ran out here, I'm guessing I'm not the only one." He paused. "I'm Hephaestion Amyntorous. Who are you?"

"I looked at him blankly, willing myself to speak but hearing nothing come out my mouth. He was the last person in the world I had expected to see. I had never seen his family at one of these events because they were simply not invited. One usually had to have old money flowing in their pockets.

"You don't talk much, do you?" he replied settling beside me on the grass. "I can deal with that."

He pulled me down beside him. I blinked in shock.

"Do you know Alexander Argead?" he scoffed, and continued. "I don't either; but he sounds like he'd be a very sad person. My parents forced me to come to this stupid thing and I don't even know the guy. Apparently his father wants me to go to some private school with him. I'm perfectly happy going to a public school. The last place I want to be is around some stuffy rich kids."

I raised my eyebrows. Amyntorous was his surname? That would make his father Amyntor Amyntorous. The world just got stranger.

Hephaestion lay back on the grass with his hands behind his head staring at the stars.

"You know, the worst part about this was that my father promised me I'd get to go to an Art School in Italy this year. You know what he told me after Phillip requested that I go with Alexander to Mieza? That I'd have enough time to concentrate on my _hobby_. _Hobby_. Do you believe this? He thinks it's a fucking hobby. Anyway, you must think I'm a whiner. You like music, don't you?"

I once again I tried to speak. Hephaestion rolled over on his stomach, and positioned himself so that we were face to face. He continued.

"Check this out. I managed to sneak this in my jacket when my parents weren't looking." He took out a walkman with blue headphones out his jacket, and gave me an impish smile that made me shiver involuntarily.

"Don't tell anyone, but it's Metallica's new album on cassette. I know right? I still can't believe it either, but I got it from this guy, whose older brother knows a guy who knows a guy who recorded them! I _swear_, it's one of the most metal things I've ever heard. You want to hear it? Or are you one of those hip hop guys?"

"_I'm_ Alexander Argead, " I said softly, staring into his large blue eyes. I felt like I would lose myself if I stared too long, and had to restrain myself from kissing him.

There was a short silence.

"Oh," replied Hephaestion, getting up to leave.

This time I pulled him down.

"Stay with me," I said. "And I will make your evening worthwhile."


End file.
